The Game He Played
by DudeIRock
Summary: Tom Riddle never thought that he loved Isabel. He only desired her. As his desire for her mounted so did his thist for power and this is the story of how Tom Riddle rose to become Lord Voldemort with Isabel Rochester at his side.
1. The First Attack

Sixth year students gathered anxiously around the scrawled writing opposite their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as they watched in horror while the stony body of Maribella Steiner lay motionless on the floor underneath the words "_Mudbloods beware"_. Isabel Rochester stepped forward from the crowd, attempting to implement some semblance of order.

"Someone go get Professor Dippet!" She barked, shoving two of her fellow classmates in the direction of his office. "Well, don't just stand there someone else go inside and get a teacher!"

On her command two more students scrambled into the classroom in order to alert their professor.

"Excellent use of command, Rochester…" A smooth voice whispered from over Isabel's left side, "But I believe command of this situation would best be placed in my hands."

Isabel need not turn to face the boy behind her; she knew his silky voice and warm breath on the back of her neck all too well.

"Oh, Tom!" She cried, finally allowing the rush of emotions and horror to overtake her as she buried her head in his chest.

Tom stood still for a moment, unsure of how to deal with this unprecedented show of emotions. He had always known that Isabel was, at her core, weak, but she had never been one to display that weakness, especially not to him. He slowly lifted a masculine hand up to the crown of her head and patted her lower back lightly, "It will all be okay…" He said unconvincingly.

Professors and younger students began to crowd around their frozen classmate and the whole room parted as Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore made their way through the crowd in order to assess the situation.

Dippet stood horrified, while Dumbledore's face remained unreadable. Tom quickly pulled his arms away from Isabel and addressed his headmaster.

"Is she dead…professor?" He asked.

Dumbledore answered, "No, it seems she has been petrified."

Tom stood for a moment, unable to comprehend the information. She should have been dead. All signs pointed to…

"She is merely frozen, but still living," Dumbledore explained. "As long as we still have the garden of Mandrakes out in the Herbology greenhouse, Miss Steiner should be alright."

Tom stood, still motionless, attempting to conceal the anger that was rising up inside of him. He had instructed it to kill. He had told it, plainly, to kill…

"So she should be alright?" Isabel asked, staring at her fallen classmate.

"Yes, she should be able to come out of it," Dumbledore responded, his eyes still on the crestfallen Tom Riddle.

"H—How does something like this happen?" She asked, a solitary tear trickling down her pale cheek.

"I have many theories," Dumbledore replied, "But they are only that."

Professor Dippet, looking more worn and frazzled than ever before finally turned to face Tom.

"Tom, please, gather the prefects and instruct them to bring their classmates back to their respective common rooms," Dippet sounded frightened, "Do it as quickly as you can."

Tom, who wished only to linger as a fly on the wall to watch the scene unfold, turned grudgingly on his heel and let out a barking cry, "Prefects! Bring everyone back to their common rooms! Slytherins, follow me!"

He led the younger students back to the Slytherin common room with Isabel walking closely at his side, her tall black heels clicking as they hit the stone floor. She stared at Tom, with sympathetic eyes that were unbecoming on a Slytherin girl, especially one who had found such favor with Tom Riddle.

Tom stopped the group of excited Slytherins at the cold stone wall, behind which their common room lay and muttered the password "_Parseltongue"_

One by one he watched as the smaller Slytherins piled into the common room, and more specifically he watched as Isabel as she walked nervously behind them. Tom followed them into the common room and addressed his young Slytherin charges.

"I'm sure you all have a lot to talk about," He said quietly, a faint smirk twisting the sides of his delicate lips, "But you're going to have to do so in your dormitories."

As the population in the common room dwindled only Isabel and Tom remained, standing next to each other in front of the burning hearth.

"What is it, Tom?" She asked quietly. "What happened to her?"

"How could I know?" He replied nonchalantly, "But whoever it is has the right idea."

Isabel turned to face him, her dark eyes shining in the firelight, "If you knew what was happening, you would tell me, wouldn't you Tom?"

"Of course," He lied, a cool smiling spreading across his dimly lit face.

The two of them stepped closer to each other, each silhouetted by the firelight. Tom could sense their passions rising, and he could tell that the heightened tensions in the castle had in turn heightened the sexual tensions between the two prefects. She leaned in slowly, as did he, preparing for a kiss.

Isabel wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest once more, taking in his own naturally alluring scent.

"I'm so glad I have a friend like you, Tom," She sighed. "You always make me feel safe."

Tom's heart sank as he realized that he had misinterpreted Isabel's motions, and that once again he had been reduced to merely a friend. He had long awaited his chance to take advantage of all of Isabel's charms. To fully explore the wonder that was Isabel Rochester, but he had never been allowed that privilege. Since their first year, when he had met her on the train to Hogwarts he had become enamored with her stunning looks and cool charm, even more stunning was her sorting into Slytherin which had never quite been clear to either him or his classmates. Isabel was unusually ambitious, remaining right under Tom for head of their class and always in charge of organizational events within Hogwarts, and it was that ambition that truly marked her as a Slytherin. Her pure lineage and daunting beauty also placed her with her fellow Slytherins, but her unusual kindness and pride in morality often set her apart from the rest of her class.

In Tom she had found a friend within whom she could confide, a friend who would listen and though he was not extraordinarily comforting, the fact that he was listening always served as comfort enough. Isabel had often imagined that with her he could let down his stoic demeanor, and that she knew a Tom different from the charismatic yet reserved student that Hogwarts students and faculty saw. She imagined that Tom felt similarly about confiding in her, though he rarely did so.

Tom had devised a strategy for obtaining Isabel's affections, which after six years had made very little progress. Though he kept his vow of revealing his secrets to no one, he allowed Isabel to share in small confidences in order to make her feel special and set apart. Tom's obsession with Isabel had grown over the past six years, to the point where on cold and lonely nights Tom would don an invisibility cloak he had stolen from a shop many years before and sneak into the girl's dormitory in order to watch her sleep. He became entranced by her rhythmic breathing, and the small whispered moans she emitted when he dared stroke her hair.

Tom and Isabel had grown in Slytherin together, and as Isabel had grown Tom could not help but notice that she had become the perfect image of all he desired in a woman. She exuded a pureblood class that complimented her stunning beauty. Her long dark hair fell in pieces around her pale face, and her dark brown eyes glistened with emotion. Tom liked to think that he could read her through her eyes, and recognized them as her greatest weakness. Her eyes gave away her every emotion, her every dream, her every love, and unfortunately Tom had never been able to make them gleam with anything other than friendly adoration. When Isabel came to him distressed or saddened, Tom could not help but feeling a pang of emotion that he rarely had allowed himself to feel. On dark nights, when the moon was just right and the stars twinkled in through Tom's bedroom window he often mused that he could love Isabel, but in time this thought gave way to other desires. Tom did not love anyone, but he did harbor a strong desire for Isabel, not only sexually but mentally. He wanted to understand how people like Isabel lived their lives, so freely and independently. He wanted, more than anything, to bind her to him. To take away that freedom that she flaunted so carelessly throughout her life and make her his own.

Tom stood perfectly still as Isabel let out a dry sob into his shoulder, muttering something that he could not make out.

Isabel pulled away, her eyes glistening with tears as the firelight danced across her face.

"Tom, did you know Maribella?" She asked.

"No," He said calmly.

Lying had become an easy thing for Tom Riddle. Tom _had_ known Maribella, but only briefly. It was during the last trip to Hogsmeade and Tom had dropped in to the bar that had only recently been opened to get himself a warm butterbeer. Inside were Maribella and her friends, laughing loudly as he entered. Tom had always taken a special interest in laughter, it being something he did not indulge in often, so he listened closely to the girls sitting in the booth.

"Well I mean he _is_ good-looking, Mary!" A bushy haired girl laughed from across the table.

"Who? That freaky orphan? Well, yeah, but he's still completely bizarre." Maribella replied.

"You know, I heard that his parents just left him out to die, and he had to fend for himself until he was five!" A smaller girl said from across the table.

"I heard he was raised by an old squib who trains snakes!" The bushy haired girl laughed.

"That's probably it," Maribella said. "What that pretty Isabel is doing with him, I'll never know—Did you hear _Joshua_ wants to ask her to the Yule Ball?"

"_Joshua?_" The bushy haired girl laughed, "Does he even _know_ her?"

"I don't know, I suppose so," Maribella answered. "Well, I hope she goes with him, I mean she deserves a break from that Riddle character at any rate."

_Ahem_

The three girls turned around and blushed immediately to see that Tom Riddle had been leaning up against their booth, for how long they didn't know.

"Positively _nasty_ weather out," He said nonchalantly, examining his fingernails.

None of the girls said anything, except for Maribella.

"If you didn't like what you heard, w—well that's your own fault! You should have been eavesdropping!"

Tom merely smiled at the three of them, took one last sip of his butterbeer and made his way out of the bar. He imprinted the image of Maribella's face in his mind. Sitting down she seemed to be about five foot two, golden blonde hair, pale skin, blue eyes, a freckle above her eyebrow on her left side. He tried to keep this image in his mind until he returned to Hogwarts and hastily walked to his dormitory. When he was surely alone, Tom pulled out a blank parchment and tapped his wand onto the page "_Aparece" _he whispered and watched as charcoal lines spread across the page, coming together in the perfect image of Maribella Steiner's face.

Later that day, on the pretense that he was making his rounds as prefect, Riddle snuck into the girl's bathroom he knew only too well. He was certain that no one would be present since most students had gone safely to bed hours ago. He locked the door behind him, just as an extra precaution, and bent over the familiar out-of-order tap.

"_Open"_ He hissed and the wall did as he commanded.

He made his way down into the chamber and called out to the beast that lay within.

"_Nagini!" _He called. "_Nagini, I have a task for you…"_

The snake came when called, and slithered to Tom's side, appearing almost docile before the sixteen year old.

Tom pulled the drawing out of his pocket and laid it down in front of the snake, she blinked questioningly.

"_She will be the first," _He hissed. "_Do not forget her."_

Nagini nodded and slithered back into the depths of the chamber, taking the drawing carefully in her mouth.

Tom smiled as he remembered the precursors to the events of that evening. Those few malicious mutterings by an ignorant girl had left her lying petrified in a hospital bed in a school which may or may not have the cure. Little did Maribella know that her condition had brought he and Isabel closer together.

"I don't want to go back to my dormitory, Tom," Isabel whispered. "Stay with me out here tonight."

Tom's heart raced as blood pumped through his body and he sat down quickly to conceal himself.

"If you really need me too…"He said, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

Isabel sat next to Tom on the long, black, leather couch and rested her head in his lap. He thought quickly about the appropriate course of action as his desires noticeably mounted. Her hair fell in curls gently in his lap and he breasts moved gently with the rise and fall of her breathes. Tom felt an urge to stroke her, but he'd never done such a thing before. It was such a curious concept to Tom; to simply reach out your hand and run it over another person's exposed skin. To twist your fingers around the gentle curves of the hair or to explore the contours of the body so gently that the person being stroked merely relaxes at the touch. Tom lifted his hand, eager to show his heightening nerves that they could no longer stand in the way of his conquering Isabel. He ran his fingers slowly through her hair, and felt his skin prickle as the warmth of her body touched his.

"Mmm," she moaned sleepily, "That feels nice Tom, keep doing it until I fall asleep."

Tom said nothing, but was delighted by this opportunity to touch Isabel. He ran his hands down her back and up and down her neck until he himself fell asleep, Isabel breathing gently in his arms.

As the first light filled the Slytherin common room Tom woke up with the hazy recollection of the previous nights events. He allowed a faint smile to grace his lips as he watched Isabel stir from her sleep as well, opening her eyes and immediately searching for Tom's.

"Oh T—Tom…" She yawned, "I can't believe we lasted all night."

"Neither can I," He replied quietly.

"Do you think anyone saw? Imagine the rumors!" She giggled, sitting upright. "Then Joshua would never ask me to the Yule Ball!"

Anger flooded Tom's entire body as the name he'd heard only once before came spiraling back into his life, more powerful than ever. He knew nothing of Joshua, nor his interest in Isabel, but what he did know is that he needed to crush him.

"Joshua who?" Tom asked casually, not allowing his anger to betray him.

"Joshua McKinnon," Isabel giggled, "He's in our year, very funny, Irish I think."

"What house is he in?" Tom asked.

"Oh, you're not going to like it, Tom," Isabel said bashfully, "He's a Hufflepuff."

Tom tried hard not to retch on the spot. The thought of a Hufflepuff touching the woman that was rightfully his caused the anger that had been boiling in his stomach to rise.

"A mudblood, no doubt," He spat.

"Tom," She shook her head. Being a Slytherin, she had grown accustomed to use of the word, "Does blood really mean everything to you?"

"Blood is everything," He replied casually, "Salazar Slytherin knew that."

The two turned to look up at the daunting statue of Slytherin that stood in the corner of the common room. It always comforted Tom to see his relative watching them. He often mused that Slytherin himself was egging Tom on, helping Tom continue his quest for greatness. He imagined what Slytherin would tell him at that moment.

_Crush him. _A voice he imagined to by Slytherin's said. _Crush him beyond repair._


	2. The Diary

**Yes, the dates are off for Bellatrix to be in school. I know this. It's fanfiction and I've taken liberties.**

"I—I would like to meet him," Tom said quietly, the vague imprints of a plan forming in his mind.

Isabel looked suspicious, "Why? You already know you're not going to like him, Tom!"

Tom had to think quickly. Isabel was by no means stupid, only idealistic and naïve.

"You're my best friend," He said quickly. "Shouldn't I want to meet the boy who has captured the heart of my best friend?"

He watched as Isabel's expression softened. Like always, Tom had managed to say exactly the right thing. He could tell that the use of the words _best friend_ had turned Isabel's mind from her suspicion of Tom's motives to pure delight in his recognition of her as his most valued friend.

"Alright then," She smiled sheepishly, "I'm meeting him on my way down to breakfast, you can come too."

Tom smiled to himself. He wondered how long it would take for him to dispose of Joshua McKinnon. Hours? Minutes? Within the week, was sure of that…

The two Slytherins quietly crept out of their common room into the dark, deserted hallway. Tom's pace quickened along with his heart beat. He was poised to make another kill. Until this year, until he had found the chamber, he had wondered whether he would have difficulty ending lives. He feared that when the time came he would have a change of heart or find that the task of killing was too great for him, but Tom laughed at those feelings now. No task was too great for him, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last descendent of Salazaar Slytherin.

"Tom? Hello? Tom Riddle? Are you there?"

Tom snapped out of his thoughts to see Isabel waving a manicured hand in front of his face and laughing.

"He does that," She said to the boy standing next to her.

"Don't we all?" The boy replied happily, not taking his eyes off Isabel.

"Tom this is Joshua McKinnon," Isabel smiled. "Joshua this is Tom, he's my very best friend."

Joshua's eyes were round and kind as they looked on the man who Isabel had called her best friend. Tom's eyes, however, were cold and unresponsive. He took a moment to analyze the boy in front of him, to completely take in his victim.

Joshua McKinnon was at least Tom's height, maybe a few centimeters shorter. His eyes were a deep ocean blue and Tom could tell they were the kind of eyes that shone with idiotic delight more often than they narrowed in concentration. The boy was dim; Tom could tell that right off, dim and idealistic. He was, however, handsome. Tom looked at this boy who seemed to be just as good looking as he was but also his exact opposite. Tom was thin and pale with chiseled features and a shadowy mysterious demeanor. Joshua was burley and freckles covered his face and neck from spending time outdoors. He had sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes and he looked, Tom thought, disgustingly like a Hufflepuff.

"Pleased to meet you!" Joshua said happily, extending his hand to Tom.

Tom's eyes shone as things began to go exactly according to plan. He stuck out his own hand and shook, "The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine."

Isabel positively beamed at what she thought was the beginning of a friendship.

"Well, let's go down to breakfast then," She smiled.

"I'll catch up with you two," Tom said quietly. "I left something back in my dormitory."

"Oh, well do you want us to wait?" Joshua asked kindly. "I'm not particularly hungry—"

"No," Tom cut across him, "Go. I may take a while."

"See you in class Tom!" Isabel laughed, making her way down to the Great Hall.

Tom watched them as they walked and his anger rose dramatically as he saw her put her hand in his.

Tom made his way quickly to the bathroom that he knew so well. Everyone else was at breakfast and he was sure that the place was going to be empty, but he entered quietly just as a precaution. Just as he had predicted the bathroom was empty and he leaned over the familiar tap.

"_Open_!" He hissed, and the wall did as he commanded.

Down the slender corridors he ran to greet the creature within, the creature that only he could command.

"_Nagini!_" He called, and the snake appeared, almost docile when confronted with her master.

Tom held out his hand to the snake and let its tongue wrap around his palm. He let the snake take in the essence that Joshua had so stupidly left on Tom's hand. That one gesture, that one extension of friendship had cost Joshua dearly. By giving Riddle his hand Joshua had allowed Tom to take his sent to Nagini who would now know exactly who to hunt. There would be no mistakes this time.

Tom sidled back into breakfast just before it let out and caught up with Isabel at the Slytherin table.

"Hello," He whispered from behind her.

"Oh! Tom you startled me!" She laughed. "Where have you been? Breakfast is almost over!"

"I just had to take care of a few things," He smiled. "That's all."

"Tom, if you weren't always this mysterious I would think you were hiding something from me," She laughed taking one last bite of her toast.

"Tom's always been a mystery," A dark woman's voice said from across the table.

Isabel looked up; dislike etched into her every feature. Isabel had never been a fan of Bellatrix Black. Bellatrix was merely a fourth year but clearly advanced for her age. She gave off the air of a woman who had aged very much in a short span of time, a cool sexual energy that had attracted many of the older Slytherin boys to her and her heavily lidded eyes shone with what only could have been pure evil. Tom, unlike Isabel, had taken a liking to Bellatrix. She had worshiped Tom from the moment she'd stepped into Hogwarts and it was commonly known that he could have her at any time. Many of the boys in his dormitory had often questioned his reluctance to respond to Bellatrix's many advances, but Tom never allowed them to know the truth. There was only one woman he wanted, and he would not settle for anything less, and no matter how interesting Bellatrix was she could never be Isabel.

"I don't go by that name anymore, not to _you_ anyway," Tom spat causing Bellatrix to recoil.

"I—I'm sorry I forgot _my Lord_," She said, placing a hand on Rodolphus Lestrange's knee.

"Don't forget again," Tom snarled.

Tom had detested his common muggle name for ages now, but it had only been this year, upon the discovery of his relationship to Slytherin that he had finally sought to change it. Among his closest friends all of them had begun referring to him by his alias: Lord Voldemort. He loved the name because it commanded the respect a descendent of Slytherin deserved. His friends, all of them, had begun calling him Voldemort aside from Isabel who had flat out refused to oblige the name change.

"But I _like_ your name, Tom," She laughed. "And _Lord Voldemort_? That's just silly!"

"It's not silly, and I would appreciate it if you would call me by my new name," He had said through gritted teeth. He did not take kindly to being mocked.

"No, Tom, I'm sorry but I'm not going to do it," She laughed. "Now why don't you get started on your potions work, it's due tomorrow!"

The rest of Tom's friends, however, had taken heed to his request and aside from the occasional slip they all made strides to remember to call Tom by his new, more sinister name. Tom suspected that his friends, who were more wards than they were friends, had already suspected what he was to become. They recognized the sheer magnitude of power and ambition that was stored up within Tom Riddle and each one of them, for their own separate reasons, had sought to join him on his quest. They had all accepted him as their leader. Each one hoping that he would allow some of his greatness to rub off on them, each one of them hoping that Tom Riddle would call them a friend.

"Bellatrix," Isabel began coolly, "Was just telling us about her _charming_ chat with Myrtle Dempsey."

Bellatrix laughed a hearty laugh, "That pudgy little mudblood! I hope the chamber takes her next!"

Isabel's eyes narrowed. She never openly stated that she hated the word 'mudblood'. To do so would be social suicide within the Slytherin house, but Tom noticed that she tensed whenever the word was used. The Great Hall had begun to clear but Tom and his cohorts remained seated. This gang of Slytherin's had gained unprecedented power over their fellow students. They had a sort of dark glamour about them. Most students at Hogwarts were either frightened or inspired by Tom Riddle's gang, and Tom enjoyed the grandeur.

"What did you do, Bella?" He asked.

She laughed, "Oh just took her glasses and then Bat Bogey hexed her fat arse."

"Delightful," Tom said, unimpressed, "You couldn't think of anything more creative?"

Isabel raised an eyebrow, "The Bat Bogey hex is enough, I think."

"That's why you're too soft, Isabel, I've always said that," He winked at her.

"Right," She said, standing up, clearly offended, "Well sorry if I don't stay and chat but _Joshua_ is waiting for me."

"Joshua McKinnon?" Bellatrix spat. "The mudblood?"

"Among other things!" Isabel retorted, storming out of the Great Hall.

"That Isabel," Bellatrix began darkly, "She has no pride in her blood. To think a _Rochester_ clowning around with a mudblood! It won't be long before her blood is just as dirty as—"

"Don't!" Tom commanded sharply. "You watch your tongue when you're talking about Isabel Rochester, you hear me Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed, "Your affection for her is _touching_, my Lord."

"You are a child, Bellatrix," Tom said calmly. "You are a child masquerading as a woman, and once you learn that you will finally be able to be as powerful as you wish you were."

"My Lord I did not mean to offe—"

An ear-piercing scream rang out through the Great Hall. The students remaining all gathered out into the hallway, and Tom followed closely behind. He had known the voice of the girl who screamed, he had known it all too well.

Instantly upon is arrival on the scene he smelt the flowery scent that he could only associate with Isabel as she flung herself into his arms. As she sobbed her could feel her chest pressing up against his causing his desire to mount.

"What is it?" He whispered, as if he didn't know.

"J—Joshua!" She cried pointing in the direction of the crowd. Tom could just barely make out the petrified body of Joshua McKinnon, holding a long silver knife in his hand, lying frozen on the ground.

"He isn't dead," She said quickly. "Petrified. Just like the girl…"

Anger rose in Tom's stomach once more, how could he have failed again? His instructions had been so clear, so obvious to Nagini. He had plainly told her to kill. He had given her his scent so that there would be no confusion. He almost roared with rage, but kept his calm.

"I'm sorry Isabel," He lied. "He was a nice boy."

"It means so much that you think that Tom!" She said letting out a dry sob. "I just hope he's alright."

"Not to worry Miss Rochester," A voice said from behind the two prefects. "As soon as the mandrakes are fully grown Mr. McKinnon will be restored to full health."

Tom turned to see the slender figure of Albus Dumbledore observing the scene around them. Students and teachers alike had gathered to see the frozen body of Joshua McKinnon as it was floated up to the hospital wing.

"Who is doing this, Professor?" Isabel asked earnestly.

"I do not know," Dumbledore began, his eyes fixed on Tom, "But whoever it is should be well aware of the consequences if they were to be found."

"You don't think it's a student, do you?" Isabel cried.

"We can only hope that no one that walks among us would wish to hurt their peers," Dumbledore said ambiguously. "We can only hope…"

"Professor!" A gruff voice said from behind them, "Professor did yeh see wha' happened? I think there was another attack!"

Tom turned once more to see the monstrous figure of Rubeus Hagrid, a third year and an oaf if Tom had ever seen one.

"Yes, Rubeus, we teachers have it under control," Dumbledore smiled kindly.

_Friend of mudbloods and half breeds…_Tom thought to himself.

"Blimey," He said as the crowd began to disperse, "I hope yeh catch who did it professor, I don' want them to have ter close Hogwarts!"

The thought hit Tom hard. Would they close Hogwarts if the attacks continued? Would he have to end his cleansing of the school before he was finished?

"We hope that the attacks will end before such measures need to be taken," Dumbledore said kindly. "We teachers call this school home just as well as the students who reside here. Now isn't it time you go to class?"

"Yer righ'!" Hagrid cried, "Blimey I nearly forgot! Goodbye professor!"

"That goes for you two as well," Dumbledore said, turning to face Isabel and Tom, "We turn to our Prefects in times of trouble to set an example."

"Yes professor," Isabel said, gathering her things.

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore," Tom smiled following closely behind Isabel.

"Strange isn't it?" She said, once they were out of earshot.

"Yes, Dumbledore is supposed to be the greatest wizard of our age but his infatuation with mudbloods, muggles, and half-breeds—"

"No not that!" Isabel said sharply. "Hagrid!"

"I try not to take his behavior into much account," Tom said, "He's clearly an oaf. Damn nearly a squib if I've ever seen one and I have a suspicion he may be part gi—"

"No!" Isabel interrupted again. "Not that either! The fact that he wasn't at breakfast! He came from the complete opposite direction! What was he doing?"

Tom laughed. He knew exactly what Hagrid had been up to. Weeks ago on one of his after-hours strolls Tom had caught Hagrid blundering along the hallway into a secluded room. He was intrigued by his behavior and quietly followed until he came upon Hagrid feeding a pet acromantula that he had been keeping in a cage.

_Clearly feeble minded._ Tom had thought. _Keeping an acromantula as a pet when there are much greater creatures hidden in the bowls of Hogwarts itself…_

"As I said before," Tom replied, "I do not concern myself with the goings ons of an oaf like Rubeus Hagrid."

"But don't you think it's strange that—"

"Do you really think he's capable of such a thing?" Tom asked sharply.

How could Isabel possibly think that an imbecile like Rubeus Hagrid could complete a task that it had taken Tom years to put together? Had she really not recognized this for what it was? Tom was astonished that no one had come to the conclusion yet, though he suspected Dumbledore to be close. Had no one realized that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened yet again?

Tom knew that he had to act quickly. He knew that he had to let everyone know the gravity of the situation they were in before anyone got too comfortable. Most students seemed to think this was nothing but a poorly played out prank. Some sort of joke of the Slytherin's that would go away within the month. Tom was livid to think that all his hard work had finally come to fruition and most students thought it only a practical joke. He knew what he had to do. He had to kill.

"I can't believe this happened now!" Isabel said sadly as they entered the common room for the night. "Right before Christmas!"

"What does Christmas have to do with it?" Tom asked, kicking off his shoes.

"W—Well I mean—don't you celebrate Christmas?" She asked.

"I don't celebrate anything," He replied casually.

"Nothing?" She asked, sounding astonished.

"Nothing," He replied. "I grew up in a muggle orphanage Isabel. It's not a place full of Christmas cheer."

"Well, haven't you ever gotten any gifts?" She asked.

"Only the ones from you," He replied, eager for the conversation to end.

"The ball is tomorrow," She said quietly. "I suppose I won't go now that I don't have a date…"

She trailed off looking sadly at the floor. She had settled in an armchair by the fire and was slowly cooling off the palms of her hands near the flame. Tom longed to take her hands in his, to pull her close to him, to kiss her, to take her completely, but he held himself back.

"If you want to go," Tom began, attempting to sound casual, "I'll take you."

She looked up. Her chestnut eyes shone with happiness as she looked on her best friend.

"Tom, would you really? I know you hate things like this…"

"I would take you, if that's what you want," He replied.

"Oh Tom! You're wonderful!" She cried leaping from the chair to embrace her friend in a hug.

He patted the small of her back with his hand, "I know."

"I'm so glad you're going to take me," She smiled. "I would feel awful if I found another _real_ date. Not that you're not a real date it's just if someone who I was actually interested in was taking me that would be awful. I would feel like I was disgracing Joshua's sick bed!"

Tom felt the familiar sinking in his stomach. Once again he had been reduced to a friend. He often wished that Isabel would not be so honest with him about her entirely platonic feelings. Thought Tom despised hope he often wished that she would give him some.

The next morning the castle was filled with excitement; excitement over the latest attack and excitement over the upcoming ball. It would be the last chance to see the students who would be leaving for winter break the next morning and it was a night marked with its romantic possibilities. Tom had spent much of his time, along with Isabel and the other prefects, planning a ball that up until that point he did not intend to attend.

"Avery," He had called that morning as the boys woke up, "Avery are you attending the ball tonight?"

Avery grunted and shook his head 'no'. The question really needn't be asked. As if there was a female on this earth that would consent to go to the ball withe Avery…

"Do you have dress robes with you?" Tom asked.

"Yes but—"

"Give them here," Tom commanded.

"Yes, Lord Voldemort," He replied, tossing the clothes onto his bed. "They may be a bit big."

"May be?" Tom laughed. "Are you dim, Avery? Of course they're going to be big. I'll alter them, of course!"

He quickly slipped the robes on and looked at himself in the mirror. The robes themselves were very fine, which Tom had expected coming from the Avery family, but they were nearly three sizes too big.

"_Aumento_," He said quietly, tapping his wand to the robes. They instantly too the shape of Tom's own slender body and he couldn't help but admire the effect. If Tom had commanded attention in his regular school robes, dress robes made him look almost regal. His black hair fell in pieces into his dark black eyes and the robes, also black, contrasted with his pale skin. He felt as though he had finally completed the outward appearance to match his inner greatness, and he felt almost certain that Isabel would take notice of this change.

Each of the Slytherins traditionally met their dates at the stairs leading to the exit of the common room where they would exchange Christmas gifts and make their way to the ball. Tom waited along with the rest of his Slytherin classmates (excluding Avery) for the girls to arrive.

"Always late, aren't they?" Rodolphus laughed.

"Yes," Tom said, "Women behave so curiously."

Just as Tom spoke the door to the girl's dormitory opened and elegantly dressed Slytherin girls began to pile into the common room. Bellatrix joined Rodolphus by the stairs, but could not help buy eye Tom's handsome robes.

"You look—"

"I know," He cut her off.

_Where is she?_ He thought as the crowd dispersed and Isabel was nowhere in sight.

"Surprise," A soft voice said behind him.

He turned to see Isabel, her hair gently curling at her shoulders and her soft eyes glancing up at him happily. If he had been one to express emotion he would have let out a gasp at the sight of her. She was absolutely beautiful.

He robes were emerald green and were wrapped tightly around her pale skin. Her eyes shone beautifully and in her hair she had sprinkled what seemed to Tom to be pixie dust. The overall effect made it seem as though Isabel was not of this world, as though she were a goddess or an angel sent as a gift for Tom and Tom alone. He had to have her, and he had to have her tonight.

"You look stunning," He said, taking her hand up to his lips.

"Tom? Since when are you this much a gentleman?" She laughed.

"Here is your gift," He said quietly, handing her a small box.

She opened quickly and smiled at it contents. A small emerald necklace was coiled around the center of the box. She picked it up gingerly and examined it in the light. The jewels were real.

"Where did you get this?" She asked softly.

"Never you mind," Tom smiled. "I'd get you anything you desired, Isabel."

He knew that she would not have approved of the method by which he had taken the necklace. It had once belonged to a small girl with whom he'd lived in the orphanage. Before he had learned that he was a wizard, long before the visit from Dumbledore, he had often taken pride in seeing what he could steal from other residents. He had taken this necklace from a girl who had teased him during classes one day. It was the only thing her mother had ever left her, and he had kept it ever since. After he met Isabel he knew that he wanted to give it to her. He knew that its beauty could finally shine against her soft pale skin, but he had been waiting for the opportunity.

"I've never seen anything like it Tom," She said, "It's wonderful."

"You're wonderful, Isabel," He said, allowing the flattery that he'd often held back to finally flow from his tongue.

She flushed red for only a moment and Tom knew his plan was working.

"I feel like what I got you isn't enough now," She said quietly, her eyes sad.

"Anything you get me would be enough," He eyed her bare chest as he spoke.

She pulled out a small neatly wrapped package from her bag and handed it over to Tom.

"It's always hard to shop for you, Tom," She said quickly. "I never know what to get because you're not interested in the same things as everyone else. I can't just go out and pick up a Quidditch book or a scarf or some joke item. I had to get something you could really _use_."

Tom opened up the package carefully and saw that she had gotten him a small book with a dark leather cover and thick pages.

"It's a diary," She said quickly, "You're always thinking, so I thought maybe you could write some of your ideas down. You're brilliant, Tom, I don't want you to forget any of the wonderful things you must think of. You're really going to make this world a good place some day."

Tom couldn't help but laugh at this. If only she knew what he was planning already, the destruction that he hoped to cause. He felt the cover of the diary and looked on the inside to see the maker.

"You bought this in a muggle shop?" He asked her quietly.

"Yes," She responded, "I got it while I was out in London. I saw it and I knew it was the right gift for you,"

"You were right," He responded. "I'm sure I will find this very useful."

"I hope so Tom," She smiled.

"Give me a moment to put this upstairs," He said, turning to go up to the boys dormitory, the diary under his shoulder.

As he entered he gave himself another look in the mirror and couldn't help but feel as though his looks, though magnificent, were in some way inferior to Isabel's. He quickly shook the feeling of insecurity that was so new he was almost taken aback by it and put the diary gently into his trunk.

He let the vague beginnings of a plan once more form in his head, not only a plan for his night with Isabel, but a plan for the diary that now sat innocently in his trunk.


	3. Claiming the Prize

The Slytherin's each took their dates by the hand and escorted them out into the hallway, all eager to get the night started out on the right foot, because if the festivities outside of the Slytherin common room went well the festivities _inside_ were bound to be all the better. As they walked Tom could smell Isabel's familiar scent wafting through the air behind her. He looked around to see that all the other couples were walking hand in hand. He took that moment to begin the courting process that he would continue throughout the night.

He slipped his hand in hers. She looked over at him, puzzled at first, then smiled and said nothing at all.

_Perfect_, Tom thought greedily.

The Great Hall had been decorated exactly according the plan that he, Isabel, and the other prefects had come up with. Trees as high as the ceiling had been placed in each corner of the room and decorated with shimmering orbs. The doors leading to the outside of the hall had been adorned with mistletoe which continued out to the terrace for those students who wanted to make their evening a bit more private. A quiet jazz orchestra had begun to play as the students entered and made hasty conversation waiting for the first few couples to make their way onto the dance floor. In the far corner of the room the teachers all sat smiling as they entered, and though they looked strained, it seemed as though they wanted to put the events of the afternoon behind them for the evening.

As the Great Hall began to fill more and more students began pouring onto the dance floor and the band struck up a livelier tune. Tom watched as his classmates grabbed their partners, pulled them close, and began to dance. He watched Bellatrix move seductively next to Rodolphus, though he caught shooting glances his way.

Isabel, whose plans were clearly different from Tom's, spent the beginning of the evening making conversation with her friends from other houses, and standing by the refreshment table chatting away over the top of her butter beer.

"Would you like to dance?" Tom asked her finally, casually placing his hand on her shoulder.

He felt her shiver at his touch. Did she want him? He couldn't tell.

"Alright," She smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him onto the dance floor.

The band then struck up a slow ballad and all of the previously raucous dancers moved in a little bit closer, taking their partner's waists. Tom and Isabel looked at each other awkwardly. Tom could not have planned the evening better himself.

_Soon I will have her. _He thought. _Soon I will finally have what I have desired for so long…_

He put his hands around Isabel's waist and she draped hers around his neck. The two swayed slowly on the spot as the rest of their classmates did the same. Tom knew that the moment was approaching when he and Isabel would finally kiss. He turned his eyes to look into hers. She seemed uncomfortable and unsure. Her eyes never lied.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, leaning into her ear.

"Is this strange, Tom?" She asked quietly.

"Is what strange?" He replied, though he was sure he already knew.

"I feel—differently—about you tonight…" She said quietly. "I don't know why, but I do."

"Differently?" He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

He wanted Isabel to express her feelings for him before he did the same in return. Tom, above all things, did not want to seem vulnerable. If he put his feelings out before hers he was liable for rejection, if he led her to the conclusion first, then he knew he was set.

She looked up, her eyes round in wonderment.

"I feel like I—"

"Yes?" He asked eagerly, his eyes gleaming. He tightened his grip around her waist.

"Nevermind," She said. "It's just this time of year. It always gets me confused. I'm going to have a drink."

She left Tom standing on the dance floor, alone and confused. Everything had been perfect. The music was perfect, the atmosphere was perfect, the setting was perfect, _he_ was perfect, but somehow Isabel had resisted. Tom was angry. He could feel his anger boiling over mixed with the unfamiliar sensation of disappointment. He craned his neck to see over the crowd to where Isabel had gone and noticed a gaggle of third year girls giggling has he passed.

_Every girl in this school wants me._ He thought scathingly. _What makes Isabel so special?_

Then he saw her. Her dress hung delicately at her hips as she swayed to the music with her cup in hand. She smiled at passers-by but looked distinctly troubled. Her brow was furrowed and the eyes that Tom had always recognized as her greatest weakness were filled with worry. She looked beautiful. He darted past the group of younger girls that had gathered to stare at him adoringly and caught up to Isabel just as she was placing her glass delicately back on the table.

"You left me," He said quietly, trying not to let his anger show through his words.

"I'm sorry Tom," She smiled. "I just had to think is all."

"Would you like, perhaps, to come and think with me outside?" He indicated the golden archway that led out to the terrace.

"Oh Tom I—"

He held up his hand, "Isabel, please, do not deny me this honor."

His eyes flashed ominously, and for the first time Isabel felt a bit afraid of her friend.

"Alright," She agreed. "Alright, let's go."

The two exited the great hall into the area just outside. The mistletoe that they had carefully placed the night before framed the dark outlines of other couples who were much too busy to notice the two beautiful Slytherin's that had just joined them on the terrace.

"Why are you so afraid of me, Isabel?" Tom asked, turning her to face him.

"I'm not afraid of _you_ Tom but I'm afraid of—"

"The way you feel about me?" He finished her sentence for her.

"I'm not even sure if I—"

"You know," He cut in. "You know how you feel. Do not deny your desires. They are all we have."

"But I—"

"Tell me, Isabel, how _do_ you feel?" He asked. His eyes flashed with malice. If she did not tell him now he had to create a new plan. He wanted her to come to him. He wanted her to be drawn to the conclusion that he had already put in her mind. He wanted her.

She opened her mouth and then shut it again, casting a sad glance at Tom. She shook her head.

"I can't do this," She whispered.

"Can't do _what_, Isabel? We've never kept secrets from each other. I've told you everything. Now why won't you do the same for me?" Tom lied.

"This isn't the same! It's—"

"Complicated?" Tom supplied. "Tell me Isabel, and maybe it isn't as complicated as you think."

"IthinkIhavefeelingsforyou," She mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Tom had heard her the first time. He worked hard to keep the smile that he was holding back from appearing on his face. He wanted to hear her say it again. He wanted to hear her say it louder before he finally made his move.

"I think I have feelings for you," She said, still quiet, but audible.

Now it was time for Tom to craft his response. In all the years that he had thought about this moment, he had never quite gotten to what he would say after Isabel's declaration. Would he tell her he loved her? Of course not. Love was not an emotion that Tom Riddle felt, and that was one lie he was unwilling to tell. Would he lean in and kiss her? No, that was to rash. He didn't want to show how ecstatic he really was. He had to let her believe that his feelings for her had always been casual. He had to let her believe that she had to earn him, rather than that he'd already been one.

"I feel similarly," He said, after a moment's consideration.

"But we can't be together…can we?" She asked.

"Why not?" He spat, allowing more emotion in those words than he would have liked.

"You're my best friend Tom!" She cried, disturbing the couple nearest them.

"And you think I am incapable of being more?" His anger was noticeably mounting now. He was losing control.

"No it's just that—"

"Look at them," Tom indicated the hoards of students dancing in circles around one another through the window. "They all wish they could be us, Isabel. Beautiful, pureblood, exceedingly talented. They all wish they could be what we are. Together you and I could be great. Together you and I would be a couple that Salazaar Slytherin himself would have been proud of! Isabel, don't you see? I'm going to do great things, Isabel. I'm going to be more than what _any_ of these mudbloods, halfbreeds, or blood traitors could have even imagined being. That's what I offer to you, Isabel, power unmatched by any student, any faculty member here. That's what I can give you. Do you refuse me?"

Tom looked directly into her eyes and finally allowed himself the smile that had been coming for minutes now. The ambition that had marked Isabel as a Slytherin shone through her irises and she took a step closer to Tom.

"Are you going to be minister?" She asked.

"When I fulfill my destiny," Tom smiled, "there will be no Minister."

Fear shone in Isabel's eyes, but only for just a minute, "And you'll take me with you?"

"All the way, Isabel," He replied.

She leaned in, as did he, and Tom finally claimed what he'd always known to be his. The world around the two Slytherin's stopped for only just a moment as the two greatest young minds at Hogwarts joined in a kiss.

_Tonight, Nagini,_ Tom thought, _We celebrate…_


	4. Christmas Break

Tom walked Isabel back up to the common room, her delicate fingers entwined in his. The other students, who had been busy with their own petty romances for most of the evening, had finally begun to notice the highly anticipated couple. As they passed girl's hearts broke as the object of their affections slipped his hand around the waist of another. Boys' envy grew as the perfect, pureblood, brilliant; Tom Riddle strode down the hallway with the girl who was widely accepted to be the most beautiful in their year. Tom noticed the stares. He noticed the admiring looks from classmates, the envy, and the desire.

He drew Isabel closer to him.

"Look at them, Isabel," He whispered. "They all want to be us. They see what we're going to become."

Isabel's eyes shone once again. The power had overtaken her senses.

"We mustn't boast, Tom," She replied softly. "It isn't becoming on people of our status"

"No," Tom said, louder than before, "we deserve to boast Isabel. We are the dream that Salazaar Slytherin intended to create. It is for people like _us_ the Chamber of Secrets has been opened."

"Do you really think it's the Chamber?" She asked as she entered the dungeon.

"I know it's the Chamber," He said quietly.

She raised her eyebrows and stared at him for a moment, allowing the meaning of his words to sink in. He knew what he'd said. He also knew that Isabel would never tell his secret, no matter how much she disapproved.

"Tom—I—"

He held up his hand in protest, "Don't," He told her.

"But Tom what if—"

"I won't be caught," He said.

"But—Joshua!" She cried. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Her eyes were full of hurt but they could not conceal her wonder as she gazed upon her handsome friend for the first time in his true light.

"He was a mudblood, Isabel," Tom spat. He took her hands firmly in his own, "This is what is right, Isabel. This is what he wanted."

Tom indicated the statue of Slytherin.

"How did you—you know?" She asked quietly.

"I," Tom began dramatically, "am the last remaining descendent of Salazaar Slytherin himself."

Isabel's eyes grew wide. Tom could see himself becoming bigger in her eyes. He could see his power over her expanding. Though Isabel was not the typical Slytherin, any member of the house had been taught a certain reverence for its creator and Isabel was no exception.

"It is my duty," Tom said quietly, "to finish my ancestor's great work."

Isabel nodded in understanding, though she still seemed troubled.

"We should go to bed," She said softly.

Tom stepped toward her, "It is traditional, I believe, for the female to kiss the male goodnight."

Isabel hesitated, clearly the news of Tom's identity was weighing heavily on her mind, but Tom was determined. He stepped closer still, grasping Isabel's waist and pulling her toward him.

"You're mine, Isabel," He said softly. "You belong to me now."

Fear welled up in Isabel's heart as, for the first time, she felt uncomfortable in the presence of her best friend, but she did not let him see it. She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously and tried to forget the pale image of Joshua lying frozen on the floor of the great hall as she looked into Tom's dark eyes. He leaned in for a kiss and she accepted it, though not as wholly as she had its predecessor. Even when she closed her eyes she could still feel the weight of Joshua's condition on her weak heart.

Tom pulled away and smiled. It was not the type of smile that one lover gives to another, but the type of smile one might see grace the face of a little boy who had just gotten away with eating two helpings of dessert. His eyes roamed her body and his grasp remained firm on her waist.

"Who else knows?" She asked after a small silence.

"Our usual crowd," Tom replied. "I never _told_ Bellatrix, but I suspect she's guessed."

"Why didn't you tell me until now?" Isabel asked, a flash of anger in her eyes.

Tom rubbed her shoulders, "I wanted to protect you, Isabel, for as long as I could. That's all I ever want to do, protect you and keep you safe from harm."

_Safe from mudbloods_, Tom thought. Now that Isabel was his the thought of a mudblood of half-breed putting his hands on her was revolting. He wanted to protect Isabel from the filth that could potentially infect her pure blood and from that dirt that could stain her delicate skin. Desire rose in Tom to remove Isabel from Hogwarts altogether where she was forced to fraternize with those of a lesser breed. He wanted to build a home for her and keep her locked away where only those who were worthy of her presence could see her. That, Tom decided, was the eventual goal.

"I'm a big girl, Tom," Isabel said, standing up a bit straighter and gazing into his eyes fiercely. "I can handle myself. I _am_ a Slytherin you know."

Tom could not help but laugh at this, "You're delicate, darling, I want to keep you away from the things in this world that could hurt you."

"If you keep me from anything that could hurt me you keep me from living!" She said. "Tom, I want to be with you but you can't control my life."

Tom cupped her face and lifted her forehead gently to his lips, "I wish only to protect you, darling, you may live as you choose."

She seemed to melt at his touch.

"How long have you felt this way about me?" Isabel asked quietly.

Tom took a moment to formulate his response. He, once again, did not wish to appear weak or emotional, but he also wanted to give her an answer that she wanted to hear.

"I have desired you for quite some time," He answered.

The answer seemed to disappoint Isabel, and Tom immediately regretted his choice of words.

"I'm going to go upstairs now. Goodnight Tom," She sighed.

Tom watched Isabel ascend the curved staircase that led to the girls' dormitory and waited until he heard the faint click of the door behind her before dashing out of the common room into the deserted corridors of Hogwarts after hours.

Tom sped stealthily to the bathroom he knew so well and down into the chamber that had almost become a second home. There was Nagini, coiled around herself in a deep slumber. Tom called her awake.

_"Nagini!"_ He cried. "_Nagini wake up!_"

The snake lifted its enormous head drowsily to show Tom that he had gained her attention.

"_Take to the pipes tonight, Nagini. Do not pick just any mudblood prowl the school for just the right one. We celebrate, tonight, Nagini. It has been a wonderful day for your master."_

Nagini uncoiled herself approvingly and sped off into the bowels of the chamber where she would then take to the school itself to seek out her prey.

Her victim was found on a Thursday two weeks from the date when Tom had first sent her out. The air around Hogwarts had gotten significantly colder as November brought in the onset of winter and an icy wind from the north. Students had begun to don their hats and scarves and comfortable fires were constantly lit in the common room. It was on a crisp November morning that first-year, gobstone club member, and hufflepuff Rebecca Motley was found petrified just outside the Quidditch field frozen as she gazed into the lake.

Tom was furious.

His monster had once again failed to kill. The girl had not looked the snake directly in the eye but had seen her through a patch of ice. Tom had finally worked out the mystery behind the petrified students, and he wondered how long it would take for the Hogwarts staff to catch on. None of the students had seen the basilisk head-on. Maribella, who had been notoriously vain, saw Nagini in a reflection in her compact as she applied makeup. And Joshua, poor Joshua, had seen the snake reflected in the flask that he was famous for carrying.

_How hard could it possibly be,_ Tom fumed, _to turn around when you see an enormous snake reflected behind you? _

Tom let Nagini rest until well after the Christmas holiday. Maybe her sloppy performance could be cured by a little time alone in the chamber. Soon, Tom hoped, she would strike to kill. Ever since Rebecca had been petrified the school was in a frenzy. Many of the students had begun to look up the legend of the Chamber of Secrets though, at Professor Dippet's request, the staff virulently denied its existence.

Tom found it most amusing to watch the panic he'd created. He spent his time alone during the winter break wandering the corridors and marveling at the freedom he felt as opposed to his frightened classmates. First years began to travel only in frightened groups to all their classes and the more chivalrous boys had taken to escorting the female students down dark corridors.

Isabel had left Tom over the Christmas break to spend the holiday with her family in Ireland. Tom was little less than furious. How dare she leave _Tom Riddle_, the Heir of Slytherin, to spend his holiday alone? He had done so many times, but now that he had Isabel he was almost certain she would stay and accompany him. Tom no longer wished to lord over the other students without his beautiful Isabel by his side. He longed to use her as another reason for his elevated status. Not only was he powerful, pureblood, and beautiful, but so was his woman. It was not enough for Tom any more to be what other people desired he also must _have_ what other people desired, and other people desired Isabel.

He hated being without her. Not because he longed to speak with her or missed her company, but because he hated not having her to show off. He missed the jealous stares he received from other students as they walked hand-in-hand. He missed being able to feast his eyes on the curves that were now his while other men had to settle for lesser beauties. He was furious she had chosen to spend time with her family as opposed to spending time with him; in fact, the two had parted on rather bad terms.

"But _why_, Isabel?" He had asked her.

"It's Christmas Tom!" She cried as they walked down the corridor, her luggage floating lazily behind them. "I have to spend Christmas with my family!"

"You don't _have_ to do anything but stay here with me, Isabel," He said, flicking his wand to stop her trunk in mid-air.

"Stop it," She said forcefully. "Put it right, I have to go."

"No," Tom said quietly. "Stay with me."

"TOM!" She yelled, nearly hysterical, "Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" He asked, even quieter still. He allowed his eyes to bury into her soul.

"That thing you do!" She cried. "You're making me feel terrible and I shouldn't! You're so controlling!"

He reached out and pulled her close to him. She resisted, but he was stronger than she was.

"You belong to me, not them, Isabel," He said.

"I belong to _myself_," She spat, pulling out of his grasp. "You would do well to learn that!"

Tom's eyes flashed angrily as Isabel began to pull her trunk manually toward the front of the school.

"They can't do for you what I can, Isabel!" He cried after her. "Do you choose them?"

"It's not about choosing one or the other Tom, they're my _family_." She said with disgust.

"Well, as you know, I myself have never had a family," He replied scathingly.

"Don't try to put that on me Tom," She answered her voice now full of sadness. "If I could do something about that I would."

"You could stay with me," He replied.

"I _can't_," She answered. "My family wants me home."

"But _why_? Why does it matter so much to you?" He genuinely wanted to know.

"For someone who cares so much about blood, Tom, you care very little about family." The two reached the front of the school where various other couples were saying lengthy goodbyes. The others stopped as the frustrated Isabel and the furious Tom continued their fight at the Hogwarts gates.

"Look at everyone else!" Isabel cried. "Other couples are saying goodbye, Tom! Nobody else is _offended_ by the fact that their girlfriend has to leave for the holiday!"

Tom grabbed Isabel by the arm and hissed "We are not like everyone else, Isabel, you know that."

"I'm going, Tom," She said. "Hopefully I find you in a better mood when I get home."

With that, Isabel grabbed her trunk and walked out into the group of students who were leaving for the Hogwarts Express. Tom was furious.


End file.
